Chapter 22
They swap places, Gavin standing to undress while Brody reclines on the bed to watch. Brody doesn’t know what Gavin has to be worried about—the slight pudge around his waist when he bends over to step out of his pants disappears when he stands again. Sure, he doesn’t have washboard abs, but Brody always wondered just how real those were, anyway. What Gavin does have are well-defined muscles, toned and lean, every angle an artist’s dream. His bare skin is flawless, even though there are a few freckles scattered about his belly. The same blond hair crowning his head covers his arms and chest and legs like fuzzy down, and his thick c**k juts out from a sandier thatch at his crotch.
To Brody, all Gavin’s unmarked flesh looks like a new canvas waiting for an artist’s touch. He coul
